Thomas Davis Poems
Celts And Saxons
We hate the Saxon and the Dane,
We hate the Norman men-
We cursed their greed for blood and gain,
We curse them now again.
Yet start not, Irish-born man!
If you're to Ireland true,
We heed not blood, nor creed, nor clan
We have no curse for you.
We have no curse for you or yours,
But Friendship's ready grasp,
And Faith to stand by you and yours
Unto our latest gasp-
To stand by you against all foes,
Howe'er, or whence they come,
With traitor arts, or bribes, or blows,
From England, France, or Rome.
What matter that at different ...
There flows from her spirit such love and delight,
That the face of Blind Mary is radiant with light-
As the gleam from a homestead through darkness will show
Or the moon glimmer soft through the fast falling snow.
Yet there's a keen sorrow comes o'er her at times,
As an Indian might feel in our northerly climes!
And she talks of the sunset, like parting of friends,
And the starlight, as love, that not changes nor ends.